


Hide and Seek

by blackswans22



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Vegebul Timeless Zine 2020, canon esque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackswans22/pseuds/blackswans22
Summary: On a rainy night in West City, Bulma lies in wait, silent and alert, and wonders if she has finally eluded her pursuer once and for all.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 18
Kudos: 44





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot for the Vegebul Timeless magazine 2020. 
> 
> I'm so very honored and touched to work alongside such amazing artists and writers while collaborating with the talented ChoobiDoodles for this collection. I hope you enjoy and please check out the other writers and artists! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Art by the spectacular ChoobiDoodles for Vegebul Timeless magazine 2020.  
> Check out her other fabulous work on twitter: @choobi_doodles

It had been raining hard all day. The heavy droplets pattered on the street and sidewalk, plinked rhythmically against glass windows and hit with a noticeable thud on the rooftops of cars that navigated through the city under the dense shower. As the day turned to night, they slowed to a trickle like the rain itself, and a few vehicles with bright headlights cut through the darkness as pedestrian stragglers, out enjoying the bustling nightlife, made sure to avoid dripping eaves as they hoisted umbrellas over their heads. En route to the destinations, they passed each other in sparse groupings and avoided unnecessary eye contact. 

If some had only lifted their gaze from the wet sidewalk, they may have spotted an unusual sight: one such individual clad in jeans, a bulky grey sweatshirt, and coif of blue curls hidden under an unassuming ball cap. A large black umbrella held close to her crown to obscure her face from onlookers, the ensemble did its part to conceal the richest woman in West City in plain sight. A feat she was hoping was convincing beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was vital she remained unnoticed, unseen. She smirked with cherry red lips under the shade of her umbrella as she traveled along the street, alone. If the locals who knew her face well couldn’t see her, perhaps the ruse was effective enough. 

A soft vibration emanated from her pocket. She retrieved her phone, holding the device close to her body to block out the light coming from the display. She placed it to her ear and whispered a greeting.

She heard a distinctive sigh on the other end before it spoke.

“Hi, Mom. He left about 10 minutes ago.” The odd tone suggested disapproval of her current actions of the evening.

Bulma covered the receiver and lowered her voice to avoid being overheard by sensitive ears. “Good. Do you think I had enough of a head start?”

“I dunno. Three hours is pretty long. He could still find you.”

“He won’t find me.” She said affirmatively.

“You need to stop doing this. Come home. I’m worried.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don't need me to come get you? Really, if you’re in a bad area, let me come get you.” The concern gripped her heart but she resolved to stay steadfast in her undertaking. 

“I said I’m fine. No one has even batted an eye. I’m invisible.”

“He’s still gonna find you.”

“I love you, Trunks.” She reassured and another sigh crossed over the line. 

“Love you. Be safe. Bye.”

The call terminated with a beep and she hid the phone in her jeans again, shivering abruptly as gooseflesh prickled across her arms under the cotton sleeves. 

She looked up as a dark-colored sedan cast its headlights over her before disappearing down the street, little tidal waves splashing off the tires. Not wanting to stay in place too long, Bulma picked up the pace on the deserted sidewalk, attempting to silence her footfalls with careful steps and covertly observe her surroundings. 

Reaching an empty side alley, she spied a dumpster. Peeling off the sweater to only a thin tank top and smelling her perfume on the clothing, she dropped it in the dark green bin where it plopped at the bottom. Shivering again, this time from the drafty air, she smiled confidently that the last vestige of her true identity had been shed. There was no way he was going to find her. The city spanned 20 miles; a dense patchwork of metal and glass buildings, yarnlike roads, smatterings of trees and parks, all intricately woven together for her to get completely lost amongst its stitches. 

With a triumphant grin, she glanced up and discovered a small rundown 24-hour diner a block up. She sighed in relief as she walked in and sat at a worn red and white booth, wringing her damp hair with the paper napkin on the table. She must have looked awful. Stringy mane, no make up, walking for hours in the rain. But at least she was warm and cozy. She could sit for a while here as she planned her next move. 

“What’ll it be.” The aging waitress inquired. Bulma peered up and ordered a coffee, cream, and sugar. 

As the woman left, Bulma rubbed her face, mourned her trainers which were covered in dark mud despite being only 2 days old, and placed her phone on the tabletop.

A chime rang from the bell over the door. The waitress mumbled a greeting as she deposited a chipped mug of brown liquid in front of Bulma that smelled more burnt than fresh. 

As she poured a generous amount of milk into the cup, a man occupied the booth opposite her. 

She blew on the steam in vexation.

“How did you find me?”

A smirk as he pulled the cup towards him, scooped three spoonfuls of sugar in and stirred before returning it to her. Regardless of its over-brewed flavor, he had perfected the cup to her specifications. Typical.

“You weren’t hard to find.” His voice gravely and even. 

“I thought I had such a low power level.” 

“True. I can still find you.” He said conclusively.

“Even in the rain, I thought…”

“You can’t evade me. I know you too well. I always know where you are.” He assured with a near imperceivable smile.

She huffed and fished out a capsule holding the 30,000 Zeni notes from her pocket. Her fingers curled in defeat as she slid the capsule across the table. 

Vegeta grunted, amused. “Next time, don't bet so much. It will hurt less when you lose.”

The gaze over his shoulder summoned her waitress without delay. “Coffee. Black. I’m buying.”

He disregarded his wife as she stuck out her tongue. He merely turned his head and watched the rain patter out the window.


End file.
